It was past four in the afternoon. Outside, the streets were still busy with people rushing about, but many had already chosen to head back home. With the sun set to vanish in just a couple of hours, anyone who valued their life knew better than to linger in the forest after dark.
At home, some residents discovered someone collecting books—and the sight left them stunned. After heated debates, most agreed that Arya was clearly crazy. A few, however, thought that perhaps the knowledge contained in those books could actually be learned. Still, no one followed her example, exchanging their hard-earned materials for books. Arya, unsurprisingly, didn't care.
"Does anyone have a fire starter I can borrow? I opened a bag of instant noodles, and I finally have something proper to eat," Arya asked.
"Why do you need a fire starter? Just knead it and eat with the seasoning packet!" one person replied.
"It's too dry! I can't swallow it," she protested.
"Where did this pampered young master come from? Scram."
"Too dry, huh? Buddy, I'll help. Just a sec."
"Old Du, you have diabetes. Let me do it!" another interjected, laughing.
"Shut up! I'm trying to eat here!" Arya groaned.
"Don't mind them," said a friend, lending her a fire starter. "I finally got a fire going after rubbing for ages. You don't need to pay me back; just take it."
"Thanks so much," Arya said, relieved.
"No problem. In times like this, we should help each other," her friend replied. Arya raised an eyebrow, noticing the genuine goodwill. Though she rarely extended kindness to strangers, she couldn't deny its value.
"Everyone, it's almost night. Remember what we discovered last night? Stay alert and don't sleep until at least midnight," she reminded the group.
"Got it!"
"Leave it to me!"
"Wait… what did I miss last night?" someone asked.
"You don't know?" Arya replied. "Well, a ghost appeared. Stay awake tonight and observe its movements."
"What! A ghost!?"
"Yes. Watch through the window until midnight and confirm its presence."
Arya straightened in her seat. A ghost? She hadn't noticed anything unusual when she returned home last night. Did she miss it? She scrolled through the chat records, but everything before 3 AM was gone. Did the screen clear daily? Unsure, she decided to remain vigilant.
Originally, she had planned to hunt for treasure chests before midnight, but the news of the ghost made her reconsider. Ghosts, like herself, were "floaters"—unconventional beings. Wolves might not harm her, but a ghost could. What could a weak woman like her do if she encountered one? She glanced at the herbs in her treasure chest. At least she could refine another batch of the potion she had made yesterday. No rush, then.
Arya set up automatic trading in her shop: five units of materials for one book, one unit for a box of test tubes. Then she scooped the cooled potion from her crucible into fifty test tubes, beginning the bottling process. As she worked, the automatic trade feature made the regional chat lively—but most messages were mocking.
"That stupid woman set up automatic trading," someone sneered.
"Who?"
"Arya. She bought books yesterday and more today, now she's trading automatically."
"Five units per book? That's insane!"
"One unit per box of test tubes is low, but it's better than nothing."
Arya finished bottling and returned to her shop, noticing the mockery. She didn't care. For a moment, she considered collecting more books while potions hadn't saturated the market, but hesitated. She wasn't sure if her first batch would even sell. Magic Potion had potential, yes—but her craftsmanship was far from perfect. It was smarter to test the market first, observe reactions, and refine her approach before going all-in.
Listing the potions at ten units of materials each, Arya watched the regional chat, her eyes gleaming at the unfolding "blue ocean market."
As expected, within ten seconds, someone noticed.
"I just saw Magic Potion for sale in Arya's shop!"
"Is it April Fool's Day?"
"No, fifty bottles! The potion restores 1 point of Mana per second for ten seconds and costs ten units of basic materials—wood, stone, or vines."
"Nani!"
"Those books… you can actually learn them?"
"Yes, but even though the characters are readable, understanding them as a whole is impossible."
"One use of Gathering Art costs 20 Mana. One potion restores 10. Buying two potions costs 20 units of materials and gives you enough Mana to gather… isn't that basically free labor for her?"
Arya remained calm. Alchemy was all about equivalent exchange. One unit of material per Mana point was already fair, considering labor and production costs. In fact, she was losing money by that measure.
"Hey! That makes sense!"
"A profiteer! She won't even let people earn one unit of profit?"
"Sh*t, they're gone!"
"Why did everyone move so fast?"
Some buyers were already tasting the potions. "Five bottles! They work fine, though they taste like rust," one commented. Arya hadn't de-rusted her crucible last night, so a hint of rust was unavoidable.
"Better than nothing if wild wolves attack," someone rationalized.
"Exactly. Bought two, just in case," another agreed.
"@Arya, make more than fifty! I'm rich enough to afford it!"
"@Arya, add me as a friend! Big Shot!"
Arya smiled faintly at the reactions. Her first batch of potions had sold almost instantly, despite being imperfect. The regional market was responding. She had confirmed one thing: people valued practical alchemy, even in a raw form.
That night, Arya focused on preparing for potential danger. She refined potions steadily, testing new combinations and ensuring her automatic trade continued to run. Each sale and chat message provided invaluable market insight, shaping how she would produce and price future batches. The regional channel was alive with curiosity, excitement, and a touch of fear—perfect conditions for her alchemy enterprise to grow.
As midnight approached, Arya's attention remained divided between her shop and the outside world. The ghost might appear, or it might not. But one thing was certain: her small shop had begun to stir a ripple of influence in this forest community. From books to test tubes to potions, Arya had transformed simple materials into currency, influence, and power—all while staying one step ahead in a world where danger was only a shadow away.
By the time the first signs of dawn appeared, Arya had learned more than just recipes and market tactics—she had seen the patterns of her neighbors, the psychology of scarcity, and the beginnings of a reputation. Magic Potion might be imperfect, but it was just the first step in what would become a formidable journey.
In the shadows of the Shelter, amid whispered fears of ghosts and the rustling of leaves, Arya smiled. The forest was harsh, unpredictable, and dangerous—but it was also full of opportunities for someone willing to think, plan, and act. She was ready.